


Baker, Baker - First Chapter

by Lazarus76



Series: Baker, Baker [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Chubby Hux, F/M, Feeding Hux up is a pleasure not a chore, unusual love story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 06:55:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6460276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazarus76/pseuds/Lazarus76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, this is the revised first chapter of Baker, Baker - after I managed to delete it last night!</p><p>     Sorry! :(</p><p>    The rest of the fic is staying where it is - so if you want to continue, please read this (please!) and then click on the other fic. </p><p>    I do seem to enjoy feeding Hux up - if he disappears in the next film check my kitchen - mainly because I think someone that miserable would benefit from an almond croissant or three. But he also strikes me as a lonely soul, who would benefit from finding someone who would care for him - and vice versa.</p><p>And yes, I would like to fill him out. Really!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baker, Baker - First Chapter

"Hand me the spatula!"

You sigh, and look over from the laptop you're consulting. Its Monday morning, and Rey and Finn are settling into their customary round of bickering. Rubbing your forehead, you call out. "Children," you say, mildly, "please don't. I've not had my second cup of coffee yet."

Finn comes out of the kitchen, holding the spatula of contention. "Sorry, Boss," he apologises. "Shall I get you a Cappuccino?"

You smile. "Please."

The bakery is often punctuated by their spats, but you don't mind. They are both sweet, engaging, intelligent young people who are prepared to give the place their all. And you enjoy working with them. After nine years at the frontline of education, teaching in some of the toughest boroughs, you needed a break. The prospect of using your interpersonal skills, combined with a love of baking in your free time, appealed. 

And now you're here, gratefully accepting Finn's cappuccino before he hurries back in the kitchen to poke at the Cranberry muffins. You take a sip, closing your eyes to appreciate the taste. 

"Black coffee."

You blink. A tall, thin man, clutching an attache case, clad in a black coat and with a sour expression, is looking at you. You put your cup down, and swallow.

"Sorry?" 

"Black coffee." His face is now beginning to contort into a scowl, and you realise that his lack of manners is not something he is bothered or cares about. "And quickly."

"Well, aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"Good manners cost nothing," you say, hoping he'll take the pointed hint.

A smug smile is starting to spread across his face. "Oh, I see. Another jumped up serving drone who thinks she's above herself." He leans forward. "Just get me the coffee, and I won't complain to the manager."

You smile, sweetly. "I am the manager."

"Oh, really?" He raises an eyebrow. "I suppose I should feel privileged that you deign to serve me."

At this point, you're tempted to tell him to leave, but decide a better option is to show him unprecedented sweetness. You begin to make the Americano, and note how he is checking on his iPhone. You also get the opportunity to study him in profile. 

He's very attractive, you concede - albeit too pale and drawn looking - but the key thing you notice is how thin he is. There is a tense energy about him, as though he's waiting for something. You carefully place the coffee in front of him, its lid pressed on tightly. 

"There," you say, demurely. He glares and picks it up, taking a quick sip as he heads for the door. 

Suddenly, he stops. 

"Ugh! What is-" he looks at you, his face contorted. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I put some sugar in it," you say, your tone polite. "Thought it might sweeten your mood."

At this, he flushes red with anger, but simply turns and charges through the door, letting it shut with a bang. 

"Jeez!" Finn appears wiping his hands on a towel. "Who was that?"

You shrug. "Someone who thought he was better than he is."

"I can't believe how rude he was," Rey chips in, coming into the main part of the bakery. "So rude!"

"Skinny and sour," Finn comments, making you and Rey laugh. "He needs someone to love him, feed him-"

"Sweeten him?"

"Yes, boss. You should try it."

You look at Finn, and raise your eyebrows. "and why do you think I'd want a skinny power tripping red head with a good case of resting bitch face?"

"Because," Finn says, grinning, "he's a challenge. And I know you love a challenge!"

You laugh. "On with you!"

"Go on," Rey urges. "Someone needs to fill him out!"

You shake your head. "Thank you both very much. A reputation for force feeding will really help the business."

"I don't think he'd object."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tuesday dawns bright and clear. You're carefully stacking the cranberry and raspberry muffins that Rey has baked, when the bell over the door chimes. 

You look up. Its the man from yesterday. He looks paler than he did, and as though he didn't get much sleep. You look at him, and wait for him to speak. 

"Black coffee." Its the same curt order. You raise your eyebrows and wait again. He swallows. "Please."

You nod, and begin to make the Americano. As you do, you notice that he is eyeing the muffins. You look at him. "Want one?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I don't eat sweet food." He swallows, and looks at the muffins. 

"You could just try a piece."

He looks at you, his facial expression tight. "Fattening me up?" he asks, sarcastically, perhaps not aware of how much his black suit accentuates his thin frame. You look at him, and smile. "No. But there's no harm in trying."

He's now biting his lip. And pausing. You take a muffin and cut it into four. "Here."

Reluctantly, he reaches forward and takes a slice. As he lifts and bites into it, you see his eyes almost light up. You wait. 

"That's-really good," he mumbles. 

"Want another piece?"

He reaches for the coffee. "Actually, no. And I think I'd better leave before I'm lured into the gingerbread cottage." There's almost the faintest trace of a smile on his face. A $10 bill is placed on the counter, and he's gone. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Wednesday is rainy. You find yourself wondering if he'll turn up. You can't help but look at the door every time a customer pushes their way in. Finn and Rey are noticing this, and are gently teasing you. 

"Tell us," Finn comments. "You're thinking about tying him to a chair, and feeding him cupcakes."

"I'd give him diabetes," you respond, smiling as Finn hands you a cup of green tea with cinnamon. "Thank you."

"Just think of how cuddly he'd be!" Finn insists, happy to play along with your mental tableaux. You start to laugh. "Oh yes. It would be 'no one can hear you scream. Eat the pasta. Eat it. Eaaatttt IIIIttt-"

The door opens, and three people enter. You blink. One of them is him. Accompanied by a man and a woman. You notice the woman appears enraptured. "Oh, Hux!" She exclaims. "This place smells amazing!"

Hux. Finally, you have a name. You start to get up. 

"Boss!" Finn is behind the counter. "Stay there, relax!"

The woman - an amazon, at over six foot - turns to you. "Long day?"

"Very busy," you comment. "I do recommend the mocha cake though."

"Oh, I can't resist the thought!" she exclaims. Finn pulls it out, on its display stand. "Would you like to try a bite?"

"Please!" she says, nodding. As Finn cuts her a small chunk, she bites into it. "This is fantastic!" She smiles. "Three slices please!"

You look at Hux, who looks slightly horrified at the prospect of a slice of cake. You shrug. "Would you prefer gingerbread?"

The man - tall and lean with a shock of dark hair - looks at him. "You do like gingerbread, Hux. Remember the cookies my Mom would bake for us?"

Hux looks at you. "Funnily enough, no." He raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps I'd prefer the cake." He then looks at you. "Or do you serve pasta?"

At this, and the sly smile that cracks his mouth, you realise that he overheard Finn's comment. 

You also realise that he is not taking offence as quickly as he did earlier that week. You hand him a slice. "Here."

"Thank you." He takes the plate, to sit with the other two. "Ren!" The woman exclaims, "Don't eat it so fast!"

"Can't help it," the brunet comments. "Its too good." He looks at you. "Who baked it?"

"I did," you say. "My own recipe."

"Your huband is a lucky guy," Ren continues, digging in with his fork. "I mean, married to someone who bakes like this!"

You flinch. Your job in teaching meant you had no time to consider dating. "Ren," chides Hux, "don't be personal."

"There is no husband," you say, simply. "But when I taught, I used to bake for my Faculty. It used to cheer them up on Friday."

"Lucky them," the woman says, appreciatively. "I bet they loved you!"

"Actually," you say, "they hated me by the end of every term, when they were all about 7lbs heavier!"

At this, Ren and the woman - Phasma - start to laugh, and even Hux smiles. He looks at his plate. "Well, by the end of this week, I think 2lbs will have gone onto me."

"Oh, shush," Phasma says, turning to him. "You need it!"

At this, he blushes. "Why, thank you," he mumbles. 

"Any more?" you ask. Hux looks at you. "Did I say 2lbs? Make it 3."

You serve him another slice. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Thursday is gloomy. You're accounting at the small side table, when Finn speaks. 

"Reckon you'll go on a date?"

"Hmmm?"

"You and Hux."

"Probably not."

"Why?"

"I don't think I'm his type," you mutter. "I suspect I'm not young or pretty enough for him."

"I think you are," Finn says, loyally, and you want to hug him for his belief in you. "I reckon you're more than good looking enough for him."

You smile, and Finn goes back into the kitchen. At about 5pm, you insist he and Rey go home, and you'll close up. As you're about to start sweeping the floor, Hux arrives. He looks tired, and his eyes are shadowed. 

"Hi," you say, quietly, and he almost smiles. "Hello."

"Do you-"

"Coffee, please," he says, and there is a tiredness in his voice. "Black."

"Need a caffeine fix?"

"Oh yes." He sinks onto a seat. "Long meeting. Two of them. One of which ran over my alleged lunch break." He rubs his forehead. "I just need caffeine to keep me going."

You shake your head. "You need to eat something." You reach behind the counter, and pull out a hazlenut cookie. As you put it on a plate and offer it to him, his eyebrows go up. 

"I'm beginning to think you're dedicated to feeding me up."

You look at him. "Well, I am getting a new oven installed."

"Hmm." At this point, he picks the cookie up, and bites into it. "Maybe I should stop coming in." He puts the cookie down, and looks at you with intensely bright blue eyes. "Being fattened up for the slaughter does not quite appeal."

"Then maybe I'll cook for you at my place." 

You blink. He looks at you, the cookie in his hand. "Did you just ask me on a date?"

"I'm not sure," you whisper, suddenly feeling out of your depth. You smooth your black t shirt down, which has the effect of accentuating your toned waist and curves. Hux's eyes immediately locked onto to your hands. 

"Well, maybe I'll take you up on it." He finishes the cookie, raising his eyebrows. "Although, be warned - I like to exercise after a meal."

At this, you blush. His clever innuendo is certainly attractive. He gets up, and again, leaves $10 on the table. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Friday dawns clear and sunny. You check the clock - you've all made it to lunchtime. The day has been busy, with Ren and Phasma coming in, asking for today's special - red velvet cupcakes. 

But no Hux. 

As the day wears on, you begin to wonder if he will show. Maybe, you berate yourself, you scared him away with your comments about cooking for him. You keep your thoughts to yourself, until you look up, to see a familiar, thin figure.

"Hi."

"Hello." He is smiling. "Are any of the red velvet cupcakes left?"

You look at the plate. "One."

"Perfect."

"Right, do you want to take it away, or-" but suddenly, he is by your side, his arm round your waist. He is tracing his finger over your lips, and his eyes have an intensity you've not yet seen. 

"When I came in a few days ago," he murmured, "and was exceedingly rude, you challenged me. Something tells me you'll always challenge me. Something also tells me you'll always feed me, care for me."

"Really?"

"Yes," he whispers. "And maybe you'll let me show that I care for you." 

"You are too thin," you respond, reaching for his waist. "Ready to be fattened up?"

"If its you doing the fattening," he whispers, nuzzling your neck, "I can't think of anything better."

He leans down, and you kiss. And you have a sneaking suspicion it was sweeter than the cupcake.


End file.
